


Your Costume Would Look Better on My Bedroom Floor

by Anonymous



Series: Winx Stories [11]
Category: Fate: The Winx Saga (TV), Winx Club
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, One Shot, pining Riven, pining musa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:54:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29331153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: PROMPT:Riven hooks up with a masked girl at a Halloween party and is determined to find her again.But his feelings are torn, when Musa, his newest-specialism partner, starts acting weird.
Relationships: Musa/Riven (Winx Club)
Series: Winx Stories [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137782
Comments: 41
Kudos: 242
Collections: Anonymous





	Your Costume Would Look Better on My Bedroom Floor

**Author's Note:**

> I love you guys.

The music's so loud that she can't hear herself think. 

And what a _blessing_ that is. The strobe lights flash neon; reflected off of shiny, sweating bodies and the shadows cast are hues of amber and red and Musa could get lost in the blur of those lights and the pounding beat of the music and visions of Halloween masks. Skeletons slide past her, girls with impressive (read: petrifying) make up, fairies with fangs, and even specialists with werewolf ears. 

She isn't sure quite how it happened, but a group of girls she isn't particularly close to, from her English class, had begged her to be their ninth muse. 

"Your name is Musa!" Daisy, the water (not _earth, not earth)_ fairy had said, leaning against the back of the chair and giving Musa her biggest puppy-dog eyes. "And we totally like, need a ninth muse. _Please!"_

The other girls had all nodded vigorously. Musa had inwardly cursed her inability to pack away her things faster and high-tail it out of the class as soon as the bell had rung, cursed herself for letting them corner her like this. And even though she hadn't wanted to, she could read the wholesomeness radiating off of them like enormous waves. It was only an earnest desire to have fun. Daisy had prattled on about the group photo opportunities, how she even had Musa's costume all lined up, when Musa had lifted her hand to silence the babbling. 

"Alright," she said, to their elation and surprise, "fine." And then she'd put her headphones on and done her best to forget about it. 

She'd wondered for a while, briefly, if the Suite had wanted some sort of group costume. It wasn't Stella's thing, really, to coordinate outfits with other people, and as the end of October rolled around, Sky and Bloom had begun the hunt for couples costumes and Musa had supported each suggestion whole-heartedly; eager to avoid any awkwardness. 

Stella's at this party too, somewhere. Dressed in some intense haute-couture, and Terra too, as a bat? Musa isn't sure, and she wasn't about to ask. Aisha would show, for an hour or less, before rushing back to the dorm to study for the Elementals final on Tuesday. Sky and Bloom were on the dance floor, and Musa allowed herself a moment to bask in their respective bliss. 

It had been a good night so far, to her surprise. 

Daisy and her classic-fanatics had helped her into costume, and there had been pre-drinks (fruity cocktails that were worryingly easy to drink) and a lot of photos. 

Musa had to admit, they looked good. The nine of them, in their silks and their satins, and the intricate, embroidered masks that sat on the bridge of Musa's nose and fanned her eyes with fine, delicate lace detail. 

"You'll be Euterpe," Daisy had said, with perfect pronunciation, as she helped Musa into the lilac and purple swathes of silk that cinched in tight at the waist. "The muse of Music. Since you're always listening to it!" 

"Funny." Musa grinned, only a little forced, before she'd turned to the mirror and blended out her eyeshadow. 

It's not that she doesn't like Daisy. Daisy’s fine. Nice. Perfectly average. It’s just Musa keeps to herself. Her mother had always called her an introvert, or rather: someone who re-charged in the dark with music, before the battery was high-enough to go out and socialise again. Some people require more energy: the girls in her Suite are a moderate amount, but Daisy and the English Lit gang? They require a lot of power. They can be draining. 

They're all out on the dance-floor now, though, leaving her alone, and Musa sips her strawberry daiquiri and basks into the mind-numbingly, paradoxically loud, peace of the crowd. 

"As hot as you look in that costume," comes a slow, sultry drawl, "I'm sure you'd look much better out of it."

Musa's smiling, it's a reflex to smile now, whenever she hears Riven's voice. She doesn't like to think about the ramifications of that too much, so she turns and grins up at him, content to enjoy the night without over-analysing the feelings that have been simmering just under her skin for a while now. 

Riven's...well, she's glad for the low-light, because she can feel the burn in her cheeks. Some sort of pirate, maybe? But he's shirtless, with that broad, wiry definition she's grown use to seeing from their Specialism training together, and there's a dark trail of hair leading into his black leather pants. He's got a leather waistcoat on too, over his bare torso, and an eye-patch flipped up onto his forehead, a red bandana tied around his neck and his hair all mussed in that way she knows takes him at least twenty minutes in the mornings. 

He towers over her, a drink in hand, and an appreciative gleam in his eyes. She leans against the pillar and sips her strawberry potion. "How many times have you used that one tonight?" 

"Only half a dozen," he shrugs, one hand toying with the silk train of her dress. The fabric is so light, it glides through his fingertips and she can feel the heat of his hands on her thighs. 

"Wow. Way to make a girl feel special." 

He chuckles, and his breath fans over her ear and she shivers all over. "Is that what you want, baby?" He asks, pushing in closer, and she sets her drink down before she spills it. "You wanna feel special? I can arrange that." 

She wonders if he's drunk, or feeling bolder than usual in the dark- she certainly is- and she almost can't contain her joy that he likes her back. It spills out of her, and he smiles in bemusement. 

They've flirted before, in class, or well- something like flirting. Something like banter, but with softer edges, and secret smiles and inside jokes, but he's so well-guarded, Musa can never quite get a fix on his emotions. 

She can now though, she can read the desire and it's not at all hidden, and she feels brave and confident so-

She stretches onto her tiptoes (screw Daisy and these short-ass _sandals)_ and bites the bullet and kisses him. 

He moans in surprise, and she hears his own drink being set down, before his hands are in her hair, mindful of her mask, moving gently through the beads and jewellery, skimming down her body to her waist and then his mouth is on her jaw, and Musa leans her head back, granting him all the access he wants, as she clings to his shoulders. 

It’s perfect. It’s body-tingling, it’s everything she let herself think it would be on all those lonely nights when he was just letters on her phone, shining in the darkness. 

"I've wanted this for so long," she admits, elated, and Riven hums in surprise, pulling away a little. 

His lips are raw, and she runs the pad of her thumb over them. _She did that._ He nips at her finger, and she laughs. 

"Really?" He asks, curious but not displeased, as he leans in for another kiss, "do we share a class or something?" 

She laughs, before she realises he's being serious. It takes her a long, awful moment, before it all clicks. 

Riven doesn't know it's her. 

Riven doesn't recognise her. 

It's like she's been shoved into the Alfea-River, cold and sobering and awful (no matter how much Aisha sings it's praises) and Musa stumbles out of Riven's embrace, heart-pounding, stomach dropping. 

"Hey," Riven frowns, reaching for her arm, "what's wrong-"

"I-" She can't believe it. For a wild moment, she'd thought- allowed herself to think that Riven wanted- "I have to go." is what comes out, before she turns and bolts into the crowd. She runs into people, gets a few elbows in the ribs, her dress snags on a door handle and she hopes Daisy isn't mad- before she finally gets outside.

She gulps in the night air, feels the prickle of tears on her cheeks and wipes them away harshly, laughing at her own ludicrousness. What was she thinking? 

She rips off the mask, and a loud, embarrassing sob tears from her throat. She looks over the empty-parking lot, can still hear, mostly muted now, the music inside. The drop from cloud nine to _here_ is giving her whiplash. 

"Musa!" Comes Terra's concerned yelp, and Musa jumps. She's not used to being taken off-guard, not when she can feel people before they sneak up on her. Especially Terra. And now _great,_ she's crying, and she hates crying in front of people. Terra bundles over, wrapped up in a thick winter coat. Was she leaving the party early? "What's happened! Are you okay?" 

Musa tries to play it off, she doesn't like being the centre of attention. "Yeah, no- I'm- long night. A bit fried."

Terra nods: understanding. "I'll bet. Me too. Let's go back to the Suite. I can make us some hot-chocolate. We can watch a movie?" 

"That actually sounds really nice." Musa whispers, letting Terra guide her away. Terra's a comforting mix of _worry_ and a fissure of _pleasure._ Musa assumes the latter is because they're finally spending some time together. Terra's all about roommate bonding, and Musa supposes she hasn't always been the most accommodating. It’s a good distraction, to focus on how she’ll make more of an effort with Terra. 

Later, once they're both in Terra's bed, drinking hot chocolate (which is really, rather painfully sweet for Musa's taste, but she drinks it anyway) and watching _Garfield Goes to London,_ the events of earlier seem sort of like a nightmare. 

She drifts off, her head finds Terra's shoulder, and Terra is warm, and smells like apple-body wash, and she falls asleep, hoping that when she wakes up, it won't have been real. It'll be the morning of October 31st, and none of will have ever happened. 

* * *

The sun rises on November 1st. 

Riven tosses his shoe at it, but it remains stubbornly in the sky. Mocking him. It's then he realises how cold it is. And then, a little dimly, he notices that he's outside. Dazed, aching, and evidently he slept in the now dew-damp grass. And that the rather ugly looking cloud frowning down at him is- 

“Morning, Silva.” Riven mutters, trying to block out the light. His voice sounds as rough as he feels. He gets to his feet, wobbling, and Silva steadies him and brushes some of the dead grass off his shoulders. 

“This is the way to behave?" Silva berates, but he doesn't sound too angry, so Riven drowns it out. "This is the kind of example my two best Specialists are setting? I expect this from you, Riven, but Sky? How disappointing.”

Sky? Oh, that's right. Riven has a murky memory of the two of them searching for the grounds for- _shit._ More memories trickle back to him. The lovely lady in lavender, with thighs he's desperate to get his hands on, and who'd had a crush on him for _ages._ How she's disappeared and he didn't have her name, her number, her instagram, only a description of her costume. Sky had been eager to help, more than a little drunk, with Bloom on his arm. Riven wonders where Bloom is, before deciding he doesn't really care that much. 

“Saul, it wasn’t, I’m sorry.” Sky stammers, as Riven turns and heads back to school. 

It's still excruciatingly early for a Sunday morning, as he staggers back to his room and into the shower. The hot water cascades over him, sinks deep into his bones and soothes. _I've wanted this for so long_ the mystery-girl whispers, and she's achingly familiar, tantalising, lighting up a spark inside him that doesn't burn often. Fuck, she was hot. He's not sure what happened, but he's pretty sure it isn't how the night was meant to have ended. 

When he gets out of the shower, Sky is sitting on his bed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"Got a good tongue-lashing?" Riven asks, pulling on a shirt. 

Sky groans. "There was more alcohol in that punch than I thought." His phone buzzes, and he smiles at it, and Riven rolls his eyes. 

"I take it your girlfriend got back."

"Yeah, she- oh _wait."_ Sky's eyes light up, "did we find your girl?" Riven shakes his head and Sky slumps with disappointment. "Oh, maybe Bloom knows. What was she dressed as again?" 

"I don't know, a goddess or a princess something? It was purple." 

Sky types into his phone and Riven chugs half his bottle of water and contemplates bullying one of the first-years into bringing him a stack of pancakes from the cafeteria. 

"She can't remember anything." Sky says apologetically, sliding his phone into his pocket. "We think someone spiked the punch." 

"Right." Riven sighs, and honestly, of course someone spiked the punch. He knows at least five different people who tossed vodka shots into it throughout the night. He may have been one of them. "I need food." 

He's almost out the door when Sky's voice drifts after him. "You're still gonna look for her right? You said she was your soulmate!"

 _Jesus._ He's way too soft a drunk. "Forget I said that." Riven demands, even though it's futile, because Sky likes to collect all the soft, little vulnerable parts of people and treasure it about them forever. "But yes, I'm still gonna find her. At the very least, it's a damn good lay."

Sky jogs after him down the hall, stumbling into a member of the cleaning-staff and haphazardly picking up the mop. "And at the most: you'll fall in love. Imagine it, Riven." He slings an arm over Riven's shoulder. "You: in love. It's hard to picture, right?" 

"Keep dreaming, mate."

"It'd suit you, I bet." Sky continues, ever the optimist, "maybe it'll tone down your dickish tendencies by 30%. Maybe even 40." 

The arm over his shoulder turns less into a friendly gesture and more into a drunk man desperately needing support, so Riven clutches Sky tighter and helps him down the stairs, wondering when he got such an idiot for a best friend. 

The cafeteria's fairly empty, Riven would expect nothing less for this hour, so he dumps Sky unceremoniously at one of the many vacant tables, and flashes his most shit-eating grin at the lunch lady who hands him a plate full of pancakes so reluctantly, he'd almost think she'd rather have handed him a terminal illness. 

He turns, ready to re-join Sky and hatch a game plan for finding his mystery girl, when his eyes lock onto a figure in the corner of the room. 

It's Musa. As soon as he realises it, he's already on his way over. He's drawn to her, he's always been drawn to her. It had been easy, at first, to shrug it off as attraction. He's hot, she's hot, it's basic physics. But they've been sparring partners for two Semesters now, and though he'll never admit it, he likes her company. Likes the easy banter and the way they fit together. If he ever let himself think about it more deeply, he knows he'd stumble onto how compatible they are. How everything seems just a touch brighter when she smiles at him.

"Well, you look radiant this morning." He says, dumping his plate onto her table with a clatter and watching her wince. 

Her hair's a mess, her make-up dried, and her eyes red. He chuckles at how bedraggled a figure she makes, normally so pristine and put-together. It's a fun contrast.

She looks up at him, annoyed, before something strange flickers over her face. It startles him, whatever it is, she looks- _ashamed?_

"Ut-oh," he sing-songs, folding up one of his pancakes and sliding the whole thing into his mouth. "Regretting last night's decisions, are we? Where'd you end up? Let me guess: Terra talked you into her weed-brownies and she fucked up the batch. Baked, I don't know, fucking clovers instead of weed into the batter." 

It earns him a tiny little smile on the corner of her mouth, and his whole body curves closer to her in response. "Don't even. I want to forget it. Forget everything about it." 

She takes a long gulp of her drink and he notices it's black coffee. Not very Musa. She likes that disgusting earl grey shit the school doesn't stock very often. When she's forced to have coffee, it's so milky that she might as well not bother. Something's off. He examines her a little more closely, and, not for the first time, envies her powers. To see what was going on in her head, to see her emotions instead of sitting across the table and guessing at them, would be extremely useful right now. 

She reaches across the table and steals one of his pancakes, and she looks so pitiful that he lets her, and she tears it up like a bird before she eats it. "What about you?" She asks, not meeting his eyes, "how was your night?" 

For some reason, he doesn't want to tell her about the mystery-girl and his new quest to find her. It feels...wrong, to brag about some conquest. It shouldn't. It's not like they're- they're just friends. Barely. "No complaints," he says instead, and he hates this a little bit, that they're both being so evasive. 

So, he gives her shin a good kick under the table. 

"Ow! Riven!" She scowls, whacking his arm. 

He grins at her. "Muscle spasm." 

She huffs out a fond laugh, when anyone else would have stormed away from him. "Oh, really? You're getting muscle spasms now? Good to know, so I can kick your ass in training this week."

"You wish." He hums, ripping the next pancake in half and offering the larger piece to her. She takes it and eats it, and when the maple syrup dribbles down her hand, she licks it up from her wrist to her thumb, with a rose-pink tongue that Riven can't look away from. He thinks, vaguely, that she's asked him a question, because she's looking at him with expectant eyes, but there's still glossy, shiny maple on her lips and he thinks it would probably taste a lot better on her. "Huh?" 

"I said, I think Sky's going to throw-up."

He follows her gaze to where Sky is leaning over the table, looking particularly green.

Riven shrugs, going for another pancake. "Probably. He's a light-weight." 

"Shouldn't you tend to him? Best friend duties?"

"Oh," Riven hums, smacking his lips together, "is that why all of yours are here with us?"

Musa frowns down at her coffee. "They wanted to come with me, but...it's so _loud_ sometimes, you know? Sometimes I just need this. Peace." She closes her eyes, breathes in deeply, and Riven is arrested by the sight of her.

By the time he regains control of his vocal abilities, her eyes are open, ringed just a little with purple, and she's beautiful. "Does that mean I count as peace?" He teases, just a little flattered. 

"Please," she scoffs, "your emotions are _not_ quiet. You're as loud as Terra-"

"Fuck you, take that back."

"-but it's different." 

Riven leans closer on the stool; curious. She doesn't often talk about her powers with him, and he knows why. He'd been pretty blunt when they were first paired up, practically threatened to ruin her life if she'd so much as peeked into his head. He knows now that her control still isn't great, and that she tries, and that most of the time, she doesn't _want_ to know what anyone's feeling, not when it drowns out her own emotions. 

Prompted by his look, she struggles to find the words. "Terra is...it's like a room of people all yelling my name. They each want something different, they each crave something, and it's just not a fun situation, really." 

That sounds about right. He can't imagine any situation being fun with Terra. "And what about me?" 

"You-" she meets his eyes, and quickly looks away again, and he's so fucking intrigued by her. What is this? She's never been like this before, he's never been like this before. It's too soft, too intimate for them. But it's a quiet, empty Sunday morning, when she looks at her black, black coffee and says: "You sound sort of like a rainforest. It's lots of sounds: a growling jaguar, beetles scuttling up wet bark, gorilla's moving through trees, the creak of branches, storms, rain, it's...it's a harmony. Each sound is a different emotion, but they come together, like an orchestra. It's..." Her cheeks flame red, and he can tell she wants him to look away from her, but he can't. "It's peaceful." She admits, finally. 

Riven opens his mouth but nothing comes out. It's the nicest thing anyone's ever said about him. He feels raw, cut to the bone and exposed like a deep paper cut. The air seems to sting around him, and he can't believe that it's Musa, _Musa,_ that associates him with something that isn't bad.

"So. Yeah." She says, awkwardly, toying with her empty coffee cup. "I feel really stupid, by the way, so feel free to even the playing field." 

"Don't feel stupid." He whispers, and his voice must sound different because her eyes snap up to meet his. His hand is across the table, and he's not sure how it got there or what he planned on doing with her. Her fingers thrum against her cup in response. Neither one of them moves. "I uh-, that's...I picture you sometimes. Like, obviously I don't know what you're feeling, but sometimes when you're talking or we're fighting, I get these images of you, like landscapes." What the fuck is he doing, why is he speaking, why doesn't he shut up- "like a white-sand beach, or an over-grown field of harebells." 

Riven can feel his heart thumping in his chest, and Musa is staring at him, and their fingers are inching, slowly, towards each other and then-

Sky vomits. Loudly. 

Musa jumps up. "Oh my god!" She cries, rushing over to him. Riven scrambles after her, as Sky coughs up the rest of it. "I'll get him some water." Musa says, running to the lunch lady.

Riven pats Sky's back, and Sky looks up at him, still a little green around the edges. "Oh hey! You should definitely ask Musa if she saw your mystery girl last night." He says hoarsely. Still definitely drunk, then. 

"Shut the fuck up and don't say anything about that to her." Riven hisses, as Musa returns with a plastic cup of water. She looks between them curiously, and Riven gives Sky a warning glare, but all Sky does is vomit some more, and then reach for the water with a pained smile. "I'm gonna take him back to the dorm." Riven mutters, and Musa nods. 

"Sure, uh, feel better Sky. I'll see you in class, Riven." 

"Bye Musa! Say hi to Bloom for me!" Sky bellows, and Riven regrets, just a little, spiking the punch. 

* * *

"Dressing to impress." Stella observes, spotting Musa through her hand mirror as Musa walks into the classroom on Monday morning. 

Stella's been bitchier than usual to all the girls in the Suite. Musa is nearly one hundred percent sure that things with her mom are worse than usual, so she's given Stella a lot of leeway. Her patience is reaching it's limit, though. Especially because she _is_ dressing to impress. They share this class with the Specialists: _History of Magic,_ and as she'd pulled on the thigh-high socks and fussed over her space-buns for slightly longer than usual, she maybe, sort of, a little, had a certain Specialist in mind. And Musa does not like being called out. 

"I'm surprised you even noticed my outfit," Musa says, voice just a little mean, "considering the fact you spend almost all your time looking at yourself in the mirror." 

"Hm." Stella cocks her head, "can you read how I feel about that joke? Or should I tell you?" 

_Definitely a mom-thing._

"Watch it, princess." Riven calls, catching Musa's attention from one of the desk's near the back. He kicks out the chair beside him for Musa, who ducks her head to hide her smile, as she goes over to join him. 

Stella rolls her eyes. "You fighting Musa's battles now for her?" She asks, as Musa shrugs off her backpack and takes out her pencil case. 

"Musa starts her own fights," Riven grins, grabbing the leg of Musa's seat and dragging it closer to his own. Their thighs touch. Musa's breath hitches, and she looks up at him, but he's still looking at Stella; a challenge in his voice. "But I sure like to finish them. Wanna tussle, blondie?" 

Stella looks over the two of them for a moment longer before turning away. "Whatever." She mutters, dismissively. 

Riven looks down at her then, a lot closer than Musa expected, and smelling of cologne. Does he normally wear cologne to class? She doesn't know. But he fills her head with _pleased, protective, content_ and she likes that he's in such a good mood. "She's not wrong, though," he murmurs, tweaking one of her space-buns, "this is a big improvement from the train-wreck you were on Sunday." 

"Gee, thanks, Riven." 

"You're welcome." 

The teacher walks in then, so Musa has to flip him the bird under the table, and Riven laughs too loudly and has to turn it into a cough when Dowling glowers at him. 

To Musa's relief, the lesson is...normal. As normal as it is for the two of them to sit beside each other in _History of Magic,_ which isn't really. She normally sits beside Stella, and meets Riven's eye every few minutes, as he purposely disrupts the class, or cracks a joke, and then he seems to find her, relishing in everyone's good-humour but seeking her out all the same, as if to check he's made her smile too. 

Or maybe she's reading too much into it. He's forgotten the kiss, that much is totally clear. It probably happens to him all the time, kissing unknown girls under flashing lights. After she left, he probably found a new conquest. 

She tries not to let it get her down. It's not as if he's dating anyone, not that it would- not that it would matter. 

But then she remembers yesterday morning. Remember's him leaning in, his emotions a swirl of brutal _honesty_ as he said she was a field of overgrown harebells. 

She hadn't even known he knew what harebells were, but then again, why wouldn't he? She has a vague memory of him as a first-year, hiding in the Green House most lunch times, smuggling potted plants back into his dorm room. She knows if she told anyone (which she wouldn't, not ever, not without his express consent) how soft, and sweet and brutally deep he can be, no one would believe her because he hides it, buries it deep under everything else, and for some reason, he shows it to her. 

"What?" He whispers to her, and she turns, pulling from her musings to see him leaning in, an eyebrow arched. 

Musa looks at him quizzically, before he taps the edge of her notebook. 

Oh fuck. She's written his name. _Riven_ stares accusingly up at her from the top corner of her page.

Thinking on her feet, she scribbles some more: 

_wanna have lunch today?_

He reads it, and he nods, but still looks a little bemused, so she keeps writing: 

_in the woods. past the barrier._

"Ah," he whispers, nodding, and she feels relief bubble up inside her. "Sure. I'll meet you at 2." 

"Riven," Dowling calls, and Musa jerks her head up. "Something you'd like to share with the rest of the class?" 

Riven pretends to think. "Not that I can think of." He says, "you go on." 

Musa can't help her smile, and Dowling catches it. _Disapproval_ wafts off of her, and Musa cringes away from it. 

"Ignore her." Riven mutters, uncapping his pen, "crazy old bat." 

Then he writes _Musa_ in the top left corner of his notebook, and she knows he caught her, but when she sees his smile, her mortification fades away. She likes her name in his handwriting. How he loops it, how the M's tail drifts into the u. 

She pushes her own notebook towards him. "Write it again," she whispers. 

"Kinky." But he obliges her, and writes _Musa, you should wear those socks more often._ His eyes flicker to her legs and she rests her chin on her hands. 

"I knew you'd like them."

His hand reaches under the table, toys with the end of her socks on her thigh. "You were thinking of me when you put them on?" He asks, voice low, and she doesn't mean to dip into his head but the arousal is strong and sweet and addictive. 

_Triumph_ lights up her mental periphery, and Musa looks around to see Stella's eyes on them, a smirk on her lips. 

"Shit." Musa whispers, pulling her legs away, turning from Riven entirely, heart pounding. She can feel his disappointment, but she forces herself to focus on her notes. It could be worse, she tries to reason, Stella's a great secret-keeper, when she's not pissed off. And besides, what's the secret? Sure, she and Riven flirt, it's harmless, it's nothing, it's-

"You're in love with him." Stella says, accosting her after class, as Musa looks desperately for an escape route.

"What? No-"

"It's not fun, is it? Having someone know your feelings?" 

Musa sighs and takes a breath. "Look, Stell, it's really nothing. Please."

Stella looks over her, pursing her lips thoughtfully. Finally, she relaxes. "I'm not going to tell anyone, Musa. I'm not a total bitch." 

"I don't think you're a bitch." Musa says honestly, "I think you can be bitchy, when you have a bad day, but I know you're going through your own stuff. Everyone has their shit."

"You sound like him." Stella shudders, looping their arms together and leading them down the halls like they're best friends again. And really, with Stella, they might be. The girl doesn't hold a grudge. "But I like it: the two of you. You really were dressing to impress. Have you made a move?" 

"No- look, I-" she doesn't know where to begin, or how to explain, and Stella's eyes are _really_ blue and piercing and a little frightening. 

"Stone circle." Stella says, steering them to their next lesson. "Perfect. We'll partner up, our powers don't need too much guidance, and you can tell me everything. Finally. I feel like you never have any good gossip, when really, you should have the best considering your power." 

"I don't really wanna talk about it, Stella-"

"Tough." Stella sings, navigating the cobblestones outside in her heels with enviable grace, "you're getting my help, whether you want it or not." 

Musa thinks of the notebook tucked tenderly into her bag, of Riven writing her name, and he way he'd pulled her chair closer to his. The way she'd flushed hot all over at such an easy show of strength. 

"Maybe I do need your help." She mutters, and Stella squeaks so loudly that two magpies leap out of trees into the sky with fright. 

* * *

Riven's scanning instagram account after instagram account, looking for any girl in the school that bears a passing resemblance to the one he kissed on Halloween. A lot of them posted photos of themselves in costume, so it's easy to cross them off the list. But it's not really working. He can't quite get a fix on the features the girl had. The shape of her lips or her nose are a blur to him. He shuts off his phone in frustration and Sky pauses in his never-ending quest to do as many push-ups as possible. 

"No luck?" He guesses and Riven clicks his tongue. "Maybe she doesn't go to our school." 

He's considered that. "She said she'd liked me for a while." 

"Maybe she's from some sort of facility? She's clearly not well."

Riven tosses a pillow at Sky, but it lacks heat. 

Sky gets to his feet and reaches for a protein bar. "Maybe we should just accept that she's gone? You and Musa seem to have a pretty good thing going." 

" _Musa?"_

"Don't play." Sky rolls his eyes, "I'm not blind. Also, you left me alone at a lunch table to puke my guts out while you made moon-eyes at her."

"I think the alcohol has seriously affected your recall abilities." 

Sky shoves him a little, before joining him on the bed. "She's nice, she likes you, you like her. I'm not seeing the problem?"

Oh brilliant, they're doing this. A conversation about _feelings._ "We're friends." Riven says carefully, because Sky talks to Bloom and the last thing Riven needs is for Musa to hear some hacked, Chinese-whispers version of this. "We're good friends, and I don't know if there's anything more to it than that. We flirt, but..."

"You're a flirt." Sky nods, understanding. "You don't know if it's real?"

"Exactly." 

"Well, do you want it to be?" 

"Jesus, Sky, what are you, Freud?" 

"Seems like a straight forward question." 

"Well, _of course."_ Riven erupts, getting to his feet and pacing the length of the room and back. "Of course, I'd like it to be real, why wouldn't I? She's the only person at this school that understands me. She's gorgeous, she makes me laugh, she-"

"Oh _shit."_

Riven turns to look at Sky, who's looking at him like he's grown two heads. "What?" He asks, feeling self-conscious, and Sky back-pedals. 

"Nothing, I just- you...you love her. It sounds like. Like maybe you love her, a little." 

Riven remembers his stomach tightening when she'd taken the seat beside him in History. Of the way he always seems to seek her out, how each buzz of his phone might be a notification from her. 

Love is a far-fetched notion. But he likes her. A lot. Too much, sometimes. He always feels one breath way from over-playing his hand, from revealing his deck, and he just doesn't know if his flush is enough to get him through to the next round. He doesn't know if he can risk going all in. Doesn't know if he'll survive it. 

"You've got to tell her, dude," Sky murmurs, and Riven nods. 

He decides he'll do it in Specialism, but words fail him when he sees her on their training mat, hair in two high pig-tails, grinning at him in the morning sun. "Ready to get your ass-kicked?" She calls, as he drops down his bag beside her and joins her in their warm-up stretches. 

"In your dreams." He says, wondering how they got here. Marvelling at the fact she's here, in their spot, on their mat, waiting for him with that smile. Wondering when and how and why she stuck by him when all he ever tried to do was shove her away. "Musa," he begins, watching as she fumbles with her laces. He knocks her fingers out of the way and laces them for her himself, the way he does every week. She emits a little pulse of _gratitude_ and it wraps around him like an embrace. "You're getting better at that." He hums. 

"It's pretty great," she beams, proud of the advances in her magic. She's been struggling for some time, but more and more often lately, she's able to communicate like that and Riven's rewarded by little pulses of _smugness, playful, pleasure_ as she projects them at him in lieu of a response. 

He wants to feel other emotions from her. He wants to know what _want_ will feel like, knocking him to his core, knowing that she could show him if she wanted him, when she wanted him- "Musa," he tries again, when Dane's shadow falls over them both. 

Riven glowers up at him and Dane's smile wavers. "Uh, hey Riven. Hi Musa." 

Musa offers a small wave, and Riven gets to his feet. "What." 

"I just- Sky told me a few days ago about that girl you were looking for? I think it might actually be a friend of my sister's. She's a second year too: transferred a few months ago. She's really nice, her name is Lila." 

Riven takes a deep breath and keeps his voice low. "That's great, Dane. Now get lost."

"Uh, o-okay, do you want me to text you her number?" 

"Scram!" Riven growls, and Dane high-tails it, and when Riven turns around, Musa's face is different, and she's lacing up her other shoe on her own, so skilfully Riven suspects she never needed any help at all, and _crap._

"You've met someone," Musa says, smile tight, tone light hearted. "That's great." 

Riven looks at her. "Is it?" 

"Well, sure it is," she laughs, "you didn't say. When did you guys meet?" 

He wants to rip his hair out in frustration. Does she not care? Is this all a front? Does she want him to find someone else because she can read all his emotions and the fact that he's in fucking love with her is creeping her out? Is she jealous? "On Halloween, actually." 

Her eyes flash to him and away again. Her voice sounds heart-broken when she says. "Oh."

He can't bear the sound of it. He reaches for her wrist, staring at her as if he could peer into that brain of hers and get just a glimpse at whatever's going on. "I was looking for her, but I'm not anymore." 

"Why not?" 

"Because she's not you."

Musa's breath hitches, and Riven's hand on her wrist gentles, and her fingers touch his arm. "Riven..." 

"Do you? Even a bit?" He asks wretchedly, trying to brace himself for her disgust. For her to pull away. Or maybe she'd do it gently, full of kind words and understanding, and honestly he's not sure which he hates more. But he won't lash out. Not at her. 

She laughs, a little watery, and she moves so their fingers are twined together. "I've liked you for ages, Riven," she admits, and his heart swells, when-

It all fucking slots into place. 

"Jesus." He groans, pulling her hand to his and kissing it. "It was fucking you, on Halloween, wasn't it? I should've guessed." He's such a _moron._ Of course it was her, who else could it be? Who else could hold even a candle to what he feels for her?

Musa's eyes are owlish. "What do you mean?" 

"You're the goddess. The purple one."

Her cheeks flame and she ducks her head. "You remember that?" 

"I just told you I was looking for her!"

"For me?!" She squeaks, "I thought you'd hooked up with someone afterwards-"

He pulls her in for a hug and wraps his arms tight around her. Smells her hair and feels almost giddy. "You thought I didn't want you." He breathes, the thought unfathomable. Does she not know? Does she not know the depth of his desire for her? 

"Well, I don't know," she says mulishly, her voice muffled into his chest. Her arms are looped around his neck, and she fits into him: small and perfect. "I wasn't sure if it was more than flirting."

"It was. It is." He promises, and they pull apart, and he feels shy, suddenly, under her shining eyes. "Show me." He pleads quietly, "project it."

She worries her bottom lip with her teeth, but nods. "Alright, but if I turn this entire class into an orgy, that's on you." 

When the _love_ wraps around him, it isn't a pulse of emotion. It doesn't feel like finger-tips tracing over his skin, like her joy does, it feels like something else. Like warmth. Like turning your face into a shining sun, or putting your frozen-hands above a fireplace. It's heady and endless and perfect. 

"Ow," Musa pants, and the warmth disappears, and she's standing in front of him, rubbing her temples. "Did that work?" 

He steps forward and kisses her, leaning down, emoting as much _love_ as he can, hoping she can feel it in her mind, or from their kiss, hoping that she knows, finally, that he's been waiting for her just as long as she's been waiting for him. Maybe longer. 

"Oh," she murmurs, pleased-as-punch, when they pull apart. And he laughs. 

"Yeah. _Oh."_ He brushes her hair out of her face, "what does it feel like? My love?" 

He's not sure what he expects her to say. Something about a beautiful rainforest, or perhaps a landscape. Maybe something like what he felt from her: a warm, life-giving heat. 

But instead, she leans up to kiss him again and she says: 

"It feels like you."

**Author's Note:**

> Your comments are almost as lovely as you.


End file.
